


Burning Red

by evelynIttor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Rough Sex, Wincest - Freeform, dangerous sex, sex injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1403695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelynIttor/pseuds/evelynIttor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam never meant to hurt his brother, he's not even sure what happened last night. But that bloodstain on the sheets definitely isn't his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Red

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this prompt](http://letskinkjensen.livejournal.com/3706.html#comments) on letskinkjensen meme.

Sam wakes up to a blast of cold air as the blankets are pulled away. Dean's already getting out of bed and he's off in the bathroom before Sam can grab his arm and persuade him to start the morning a little differently. The air in the motel room is cold and Sam pulls the blankets back up and rolls over onto Dean's warm spot.

His feet are hanging off the end of the bed now and colder than ever. Sam bends his knees and pulls his feet up, stopping suddenly when he puts him knee into a damp patch. His first thought is that Dean got off again in the night, but he reaches down a finger and it comes back without a smell and no remnants of his brother's pleasure.

This new mystery is intriguing enough to brave the cold of the motel room and Sam throws off the blankets and gets out of bed, almost tripping over the bottle of whiskey on the floor. He kicks at it with a bare foot and pulls back the covers to see what the wetness is.

It's a bloodstain and a sizable one at that. He thinks back to the night before, racking his mind to remember what had happened.

\--

"Something wrong?" Dean asks, it's just after one and Sam's got the whiskey out of their First Aid kit and made decent work of it, even if the bottle was only half full to begin with. 

"Fuck you." Sam says and takes another hearty swallow of whiskey.

Dean pulls the whiskey away from him. "C'mon dude. There's lots of light left. We've got work to do."

"Do you know what day it is?" Sam asks, looking down at his empty hands wishing that he still had the bottle.

"November second." Dean takes his own drink from the bottle. 

Sam nods sadly, his head hanging down. He reaches a hand out for the bottle and Dean puts it into his hand.

"But do you know what happened today?" Sam asks and he's really drunk, past party drunk and onto the sad morose state of drunkenness.

Dean wracks his brain for anniversaries and birthdays, wondering if he's done something wrong, if Sam being like this is his fault.

"Jess." Sam says and he takes several drinks from the bottle, just small sips now though.

Dean doesn't know what to say. What's the protocol for mourning your brother's last girlfriend before you became gay incestuous lovers? He settles for clapping Sam on the shoulder and taking off his own shirt.

"C'mon." Dean undoes his belt and pushes his jeans down.

Sam perks up at this and pounds back the rest of the whiskey.

\--

Everything after that is kind of a blur. He remembers pounding into Dean's ass, little whimpers of pleasure beneath him. 

Sam knocks on the bathroom door. "Dean, hurry up." He sits down on the bed to pull socks onto his frozen feet and waits, still not sure what he's going to do. Apologize obviously and hope that he didn't keep pushing after he should have stopped.

It takes a long time for Dean to finish his shower and come out of the bathroom. He's got a towel wrapped around his waist and Sam looks at him carefully as he stands in the bathroom doorway. His legs aren't any farther apart than normal and there's some spectacular bruising on his hips from Sam's grip but it's nowhere near as bad as they get on hunts.

"Bathroom's all yours Sammy." Deans says, walking slowly over to their duffle bags.

"Are you okay?" Sam gets off the bed and takes a step towards Dean.

"I'm fine." Dean says and pulls a t-shirt over his damp chest.

"Really?" Sam asks and pulls the blankets back so the bloodstain on the bed is there, glaringly red on white motel sheets in the morning light.

"I-" Dean trails off. Sam knows that it's his blood. "I'm fine."

"Did I hurt you?"Sam asks and his feet have moved and he's close enough to reach out and put his hands on Dean's shoulders. "I'm sorry." He adds, remembering that apologizing should have come first.

Dean shrugs and steps back, pulling out of his grip. "It's not a big deal. I'm fine." But he winces as he bends over to grab a pair of boxers.

"That's it, come here." Sam pulls Dean away from their bags and motions for him to drop the towel, pulling the First Aid kit out of his bag.

"It's really not bad." Dean said as he slowly untucked the towel and tossed it onto the bed.

It looked bad. Sam was on his knees now, his head just at ass height. The position stirred his memories in his cock and it began to rise until he leaned in closer and took stock of the damage he'd done. It was not okay.

"I'm sorry." Sam said again and motioned to the bed. "Lay down, I'm gonna wash my hands." He headed into the bathroom before Dean made a move and hoped that his brother would be smart and just lay down. His ass looked like the chest of the guy from Alien, after the alien burst out of it.

Dean hissed and his ass tensed when Sam spread his cheeks apart as gently as he could. "Sorry." He murmured and grabbed a tube of antibiotic cream. 

"Do we have any antibiotics left?" He asked before applying it, trying to keep Dean's mind off the pain.

"Huh, maybe." Dean's voice was low and strained.

"You should take a course." Sam said and added a little more cream. The red skin was covered with a thin layer of white now and it did a lot for what had looked like road rash. There was purple bruising too, and a handprint on Dean's ass that fit his hand exactly.

"In the shower, did you?' Sam asks and wonders if there's any lubricant left. He can't really remember using any last night and the thoughts that brings up makes him clench his ass shut.

Dean shakes his head. 

"Okay." It takes Sam a minute to find the lube, it's still in the side pocket of one of their duffle bags. 

"I'm sorry." He says again as he every so carefully edges a well lubed finger inside his brother, not even sure what he's feeling for.

"It's fine." Dean says again. "It'll be fine. Give me a couple days before we do anything else."

Sam thinks about his brother's ass a lot. Sometimes he's pounding into it while he thinks about it, but he never really thought about it getting broken. There's dried blood on his finger when he pulls it out and he hopes that everything inside has stopped bleeding.

"Does it still hurt?"

"What kind of question is that?" Dean turns back to look at him. "Of course it fucking hurts. You can see the bruises right? And the blood that came out of my ass? I'll be okay."  
Sam looks at the mess he's made of his brother. "I'm sorry."

"Quit apologizing." Dean says but the words are soft.  
Sam digs around in the First Aid kit and comes up with a blister package of antibiotics and some half-decent painkillers. "Here." He offers them out. "Keep an eye out for any blood, I couldn't really tell if the bleeding's stopped."

"Why don't you keep an eye on my ass?" Dean retorts, but he takes the pills, even the painkillers.


End file.
